A Change of Tempo

I think it’s safe to say that winter is snapping at our heals now. Pretty much all the perennials have been cut back, the last of the leaves have finally fallen and I’ve been able to tidy up the paths and pavings. The garden is starting to settle into its winter coat.

This is the only time of year when you can steal a march on nature. Everything is sliding into dormancy. Yes, there are jobs to be done, but there is no hurry to complete them. It’s a relief to be able to walk into the garden and think, ‘I need to prune the jasmine, the climbing roses need sorting out’, without that inevitable sense of urgency to keep up. But from now until at least the end of January you can take your time.

This pared down version of my garden gives me pause. I walk into the garden and my breath slows, my mind clears and I become aware of the air upon my skin, the silence, the stillness. Birds, gently chirping and twittering, as they go about their business. There’s always a robin just beyond arm’s length, watching you with his beady eye. Always the opportunist, he’s waiting to see if there are any worms in your wake.

Take time to admire the vivid, fiery dogwoods, the twisty stems of contorted willow and hazel. Loosely clipped pittosporum, their evergreen elegance giving the garden Good Bones. Ghostly white bark of birch, coppery trunk of prunus serrula, The Tibetan cherry.  All coming to the fore now that the boisterous summer bustle has faded away.

In the summer there just never seems to be time to stop and smell the roses. But in winter, well, it’s a different story! For many of us, winter fragrance evokes mysterious feelings of nostalgia. Perfumed Daphne – I can’t grow it, it sulks then dies – is one of the joys of the winter garden. Sarcococca or Christmas Box, the shrinking violet of the border, pumps out its breathtaking perfume from such unassuming white flowers that you could be forgiven for overlooking it altogether. Viburnum, edgeworthia, chimonanthus praecox or Wintersweet, there’s room in every garden or patio, whatever size, for at least one fragrant shrub.

So take time out, every day, to step into your own private wonderland and just savour the moment. It’ll look the same tomorrow, or next week, even next month. And by then, you will start noticing the first signs of spring. And off we go again, on next year’s adventure.

Love, Caroline

PS View of the Wye Valley from Symonds Yat Rock - November 2024